


I'll Drink To Your Crazy Ways Through The Whisky Haze

by AliciasClarke (fyeahgila)



Category: The Rolling Stones
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1980s, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Drunken Confessions, Inspired by Real Events, Late Night Conversations, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-08
Updated: 2021-02-08
Packaged: 2021-03-14 09:00:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29293278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fyeahgila/pseuds/AliciasClarke
Summary: Mick getting soppy under the influence of alcohol, ending up confessing to Ronnie how he truly is feeling about Keith...
Relationships: Mick Jagger/Keith Richards
Comments: 2
Kudos: 14





	I'll Drink To Your Crazy Ways Through The Whisky Haze

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys :)  
> I've had the idea for thid story for over a year now. It's inspired by a story Ronnie told in his autobiography about getting drunk on red wine together in NYC in the 80s. Got a prompt on Tumblr (How did things go so wrong?) and decided to use it and finally get this story out! Hope you like it :)
> 
> The title is a line from Party Doll on Mick's second solo album Primitive Cool. I read once that this is one of the songs on the album that he wrote about Keith, so I thought it is fitting.

New York City - 1987

It was another one of those calmer nights, not spent going out to some club, dancing, doing coke, trying to chat someone up; but rather hanging out at Ronnie's place, jamming, drinking, talking. There had been a time where it wasn't only Ronnie and him, where Keith had dropped by too. But it seemed so long ago now. Mick couldn't remember when the three of them had simply hung out together the last time, only them, like they used to. Even Charlie would gladly drop by every now and again, or stick around after recording sessions. These times, however, appeared like out of another life, forever gone by now, not likely to repeat anytime soon. Charlie had his own struggles to deal with at the moment. And Keith and Mick wouldn't stay in the same room together for only a second longer than absolutely necessary. Ronnie was annoyed by it, to say the least. Also that night, he didn't get tired of pointing it out to Mick once again. 

"You know, it would be much easier if we could all hang out together again...if Keith was there too", Ronnie mused as they were sitting in the basement of his New York home that he had re-modelled into a small recording studio. 

Mick was dropping by at Ronnie's an awful lot these days, mainly because they were living only a few blocks apart, always under the disguise of jamming together. But they rarely ended up actually picking up a guitar or any other instrument. It was just them lounging on the comfortable couch with a drink, talking. If being completely honest, Mick needed this, needed his friend. Or any friend. Since Keith was out of the question. 

"Well, I'm not the one running away each time he steps into a room with me", Mick gave back, rather defensively. He didn't have enough liquor in his system yet for that conversation, so he grabbed his glass, downing some more of the red wine. 

"You're the one pushing him away, I guess...", Ronnie pointed out. 

He didn't sound accusatory and probably didn't intend to be, Mick was aware of that. Yet, he felt like being attacked. He hadn't come around to be told these things by Ronnie. Maybe, he'd even hoped to find some understanding. But Ronnie wouldn't really pick sides, he wouldn't end up ignoring Keith, or bitching with him about Mick, he'd let him know so before. Ronnie was both his and Keith's friend, and he intended to stay, which Mick couldn't blame him for. Actually, he wished that he could also still be Keith's friend. Not whatever they were at the moment. Two people who shared a long past, but ended up drifting away from each other at some point into entirely different directions as it seemed.

"How am I pushing him away? He acts like I personally insulted him each time I step into the same room with him…", Mick retorted, frustrated about how things were.

The last time he remembered being somewhat amicable around Keith was at Ian's funeral. Not just because the occasion required it, but also because losing their friend had brought them together in grief and remembrance, if only for a short time. 

"I hate saying that, mate, but...maybe you did", Ronnie said after taking another sip of his own glass of red wine. Mick made a mental note to rather insist on sticking to whiskey again next time. As he'd observed before, he knew that they both had the tendency to become oddly reflective under the influence of red wine. 

"I did? He's the one running his mouth all the time, I cannot open a bloody paper without having to see what he's calling me this day…" , Mick gave back, not able to fully hide the hurt in his voice. He would be lying if he said Keith's comments didn't sting, that they didn't hit home. 

"Are you ever gonna try to talk to him again, though? Cause I'm bloody tired of your crap...Keith bitching about you, you whining about him", Ronnie meant, his exasperation written all over his face. And again, Mick couldn't blame him. He, as well, was so sick and tired of this game by now. Whatever Keith and him were playing. In the beginning, getting away from Keith and the band had been somewhat of a relief. He'd needed his space, literally and figuratively, in order to be more creative again, trying things differently, in his own way. And he didn't see a reason why he shouldn't. Ronnie also had done his solo records. Hell, in the meantime even Keith himself had started to write and record his first album without the Stones, according to Ronnie. By now, though, Mick wouldn't deny that Keith's behaviour towards him seemed increasingly childish, but he also terribly missed him. 

"He won't listen to me...he won't even take my calls…", he mumbled, before gulping down some more wine. Unfortunately, it was lacking the sting of harder liquor it required to drown out the pang settling in his chest at this confession. He was almost inclined to ask Ronnie for some whiskey or gin. 

"You tried calling him?", Ronnie sounded almost astounded at the revelation as if he hadn't expected it. 

"Yeah...his housemaid tells me he isn't availabe...each fucking time", Mick sighed. It was endlessly frustrating. All he wanted was a chance to talk to Keith. Somehow try to make things right between them. 

"I swear you're like a married couple fighting…", Ronnie snickered. 

"Oh shut up, Ron…", Mick returned, he didn't manage for it to come across as annoyed as he had liked to, but rather sounded abashed. 

"Should I try talking to him next time I see him?", Ronnie offered, as he'd stopped cackling. 

"Good luck with that", Mick all but snorted because he could already sense that it was going to be a hard endeavour. "You got some of that Bowmore's left?", he added then because as much as he appreciated a nice glass of wine, he was longing for the burn of whiskey. 

"How did things go so wrong, Ronnie?", Mick mused a while and some whiskey later. 

"What do you mean?", Ronnie questioned, turning his head to look up at him from where he was lying sprawled out on the couch. 

"Keith and I…", Mick clarified without elaborating. 

"Well, how would I know what the fuck happened between the two of you?", Ronnie returned, taking a hit from his spliff. 

"There's a lot that happened...and a lot that didn't…", Mick said, vaguely. He could clearly feel the alcohol in his system by now, his body warm from the inside, his mind somewhat fuzzy. But he wasn't quite sozzled enough yet to not be able to think clearly anymore. He had, however, crossed that point where his tongue eventually would get looser, the more he kept talking. 

"What do you wanna say? I'm not high enough to understand that kind of vague babbling", he reminded him and under different circumstances Mick would have smirked. Actually, Ronnie had done surprisingly little drugs that night. He'd just lighted that joint he was currently smoking, and he was pretty sure that he had also snorted a line of coke before Mick arrived. But that was about it. Mick on the other hand was sticking with liquor that night to get him intoxicated. 

"I just...I wanted to be there for him, you know...protect him, I always feel like...I gotta protect him...but I guess in the end he was feeling patronised or whatever…", Mick started, the booze making him open up way more than he would have done in a sober state. Even if it was just Ronnie he was talking to. 

"Well and then he started shooting off his mouth all the time...calling me names and shit...I guess he tried pushing me away like that. Guess that worked...I just couldn't stand being around him anymore, Ronnie. And then he wanted to tour...but I couldn't...I just couldn't anymore, I couldn't stand seeing his face any longer...but now all I want is for him to talk to me again…", he went on, spilling out what he'd kept bottled up for months, years. In some way, it felt relieving. Even if it cost him a lot saying all of this out aloud. But the alcohol certainly was fuelling his monologue. 

"He hurt you", Ronnie remarked as Mick had stopped himself to take another sip of whiskey. It was like he'd only just realised for the very first time how aggrieved Mick was about this. 

"I hurt him too…", he admitted nevertheless because he knew it was true.

Keith was peculiar, he had his many small and larger quirks, of which Mick probably was privy to all of them, simply from spending so many years of his life with him. Keith wouldn't talk to Bill for many years during the past decade, only because he felt that Bill disapproved of and didn't understand his drug habits. Keith had interpreted it as Bill hating his guts, so he simply chose to ignore him. Sometimes, Keith also would dislike people for no apparent reason at all and ignored them instead. But Mick was aware that in order for Keith to treat him the way that he had for the past few years, he truly must have affronted and hurt him quite badly. 

"You miss him", it wasn't a question Ronnie posed, rather an observation he made. For a moment, Mick wondered whether this fact was so blatantly obvious, or whether Ronnie was observant enough even despite the drugs and booze. 

"I do…" , he quietly admitted. It was a complete understatement. Sometimes, he missed Keith so badly that he barely could sleep. He'd spent countless restless nights wandering around the city, under the disguise of walking the dog. 

"Does he talk about me with you?", Mick eventually inquired. A question he'd wanted to ask Ronnie many times before, but that he could get out only now. The whiskey, combined with the prior intake of red wine truly was turning his tongue loose that night. 

"Barely…", Ronnie shrugged, leaving it at that and Mick didn't ask any further. 

"Course he doesn't...rather goes blabbing to the press…", he muttered more to himself than to Ronnie and more in hurt than in anger. 

"It's just Keith being Keith...at least he didn't try to punch you or stab you with a knife", Ronnie chuckled, recalling these times where Keith had been genuinely infuriated with him. 

"He wouldn't...he knows he can rather get to me with his words…", Mick sighed. 

Keith had never even once tried to rough him up like Ronnie, or any other guy he had a problem with. They had their own way of getting to each other, words were meaner than blows, they stung deeper than any knife. 

"He was my best friend...and now he won't even talk to me", Mick commented, hating the way his voice was quivering. The bloody booze made him talk too candidly, made him get too sentimental, made him feel too vulnerable. 

"I cannot stand witnessing this any longer, I'll tell him that you wanna talk to him…", Ronnie eventually decided, pushing himself into a sitting position as if he intended to ring Keith up and let him know right this very instant. 

"You can try…but don't think he'll listen...stubborn bastard…", Mick grimaced. He knew that it was Ronnie who had ultimately managed to get Keith and Bill to settle their differences. However, he wasn't too certain that Ronnie would be able to convince Keith in Mick's case as well. 

"You know what's the worst thing about him?", he went on as Ronnie didn't reply anything, but rather kept dragging on his spliff. 

"Hmm?" 

"That even tho he's a bloody tosser I fucking love him…", Mick admitted with a deep sigh. 

Everything would be so much easier if he simply didn't care any longer. If he didn't care about the shots Keith kept firing at him via the international press, if he didn't care whether they ever talked to each other again, or tried to fix whatever was left of their relationship. It would be so much easier on his nerves and his heart if he simply could stop caring, but it wasn't an option because he had his feelings all tangled up in this.

"He's your best mate after all", Ronnie meant as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. 

Maybe it was, maybe it would be, if Mick could be sure that Keith and him were still friends at all. At this point, he truly didn't know. But it also wasn't quite what he had actually meant. However, he wasn't sure whether Ronnie would understand. Whether anybody would. Hell, most of the time he didn't even understand it himself. How he still could be feeling this way about Keith after everything that had happened between them in the past couple of years. Or even before that. 

He didn't know exactly, couldn't pinpoint when everything had started to go so incredibly wrong and fell apart. Although he guessed that maybe it all began after he helped Keith to clean up. They'd been close back then, amazingly close, even more connected and intimate than during or before Keith was on smack all the time. They'd spent hours, nights, talking about everything and nothing, almost like back when they were just boys, sharing a room at Edith Grove. And Mick had loved Keith all along, back in that dirty little Chelsea flat, back when he was fucked up with drugs, and later when he started getting better. He still loved him now, even despite all the struggles and fighting and hurt feelings of the last years. 

"No, I mean...I love him", he tried to get his point across, but to no avail. 

"I heard you", Ronnie only said, smirking lightly. 

"Ronnie…", Mick almost sighed, not sure whether to actually utter his next words. Whether it would make any difference. But maybe he just needed to say it, share this well guarded secret with someone, only once. 

"Yeah?"

"I'm in love with him...", he confessed, his voice but a whisper as he kept his gaze focused on the whisky glass in his hands. 

"What?", Ronnie asked completely flabbergasted, staring at him all wide-eyed.

"I...I'm in love with Keith...I've been...I've been in love with him for...for longer than I can remember", Mick told him, feeling his face flush, and it wasn't because of the alcohol. 

"You didn't take a line", Ronnie commented, as he still kept staring at him as if he'd started talking to him in a totally foreign language. 

"What?", Mick made, confused about these words. 

"You're not high...are you drunk already?", Ronnie wanted to know and only now did Mick realise that Ronnie didn't believe him. 

"I mean it, Ron…why else would I tell you that? I mean everything I said…", he affirmed him, feeling slightly pathetic about this. Probably he should have said nothing at all. 

"You do?", Ronnie still questioned and Mick only nodded in reply because there was nothing to add. "Well, bloody hell…" , Ronnie muttered, apparently not sure what else to say either. 

"Does Keith know about that?", he finally inquired. 

"He didn't for a quite long time…But yeah, he knows...", Mick gave back and left it at that. 

He didn't need Ronnie to know that one night, almost a decade ago, Mick had confessed his feelings to Keith in what had seemed to be a bold move to him. At least for the few moments it took before Keith ended up breaking his heart. In retrospect, Mick couldn't say that he hadn't expected to be turned down by Keith. He had been fairly aware that Keith, most likely, wouldn't share his feelings in any form. But the way Keith had brushed him off had been utterly hurtful. And the fact that he'd used it to get back at Mick and hurt him ever since, when he was angry or mad with him and they were arguing, was just a reflection of what their once so unique connection had turned into. Sometimes, Mick believed that Keith had started being extra mean and insulting towards him since then, purposefully pushing him away, because it was the only way he could deal with Mick's confession. But he knew it wasn't entirely true. He knew he had given Keith way more reasons than that to be so pissed at him. 

"Bloody hell, Mick…", Ronnie commented, still at a loss for words. 

"I know…", he sighed anew. "I know that I can't...that this can't be...Keith would never want me like that...he's made that abundantly clear…", he mumbled, just remembering some of the things Keith had thrown at him, unsympathetically, outright offending and vile, made his eyes sting with tears. Keith could be so cold and dismissing if he wanted to be. He was the sweetest, most caring and warm-hearted guy if one was on great terms with him. But if Keith had decided to turn against someone, it was war. 

Sometimes, Mick wondered whether he enjoyed having his feelings shredded by Keith like that. There was no chance to ever get what he wanted, he'd given up on that idea ages ago. It had been nothing more than hope and daydreams after all. Being with Keith like that was a beautiful, comforting, exciting thought, but above all, a most ludicrous one. They could never be more than bandmates and friends, Mick was painfully aware of that. However, for some reason he still couldn't stop feeling the way he did about Keith. He'd gladly hand him his raw, beating heart all over again to have it crushed every time anew. 

"Is that why you've been fighting the whole time?", Ronnie wanted to know, ripping him out of the stupor he'd fallen into, his thoughts, as so very often, fixed on Keith. 

"There's so much more to that...I don't know, Ronnie. There's so many reasons Keith is pissed at me...I guess it's just another one on the list…", he admitted.

There were things that he had undoubtedly fucked up. Situations that he could have handled better. Things he could have expressed differently, less hostile. About some of these things and happenstances, he actually felt great regret, he definitely should apologise to Keith for that. If he ever got the chance to. At this point, literally all Mick wanted was for Keith to allow him to talk to him again. 

"The two of you should finally talk and settle this. It's getting ridiculous...I'll make sure that he'll talk to you, I promise", Ronnie meant. 

"Thanks, Ronnie", Mick slightly smiled, not only glad about Ronnie's offer but also for his understanding. For not treating his intimate confession oddly, for not acting out like Keith had. 

"You need another drink?...cause I could need another drink", he said, already reaching for the bottle of whiskey. 

"No, I shouldn't…I'm not feeling like drinking anymore. Will you walk me home?", he asked, almost coyly. After spilling his guts, Mick didn't feel uplifted. Quite on the contrary, it had made him get a little more miserable having to think about Keith and everything that had happened between them. He didn't want to drown himself in booze, though. 

"Yeah, of course", Ronnie nodded in agreement. Mick was incredibly grateful for this small gesture. 

"And I'll tell him I'll kick his bloody arse if he won't finally talk to you", Ronnie added, smirking at him, but Mick knew that he absolutely meant it.


End file.
